The Crimson Abyssal Lion didn't roar in rage, it roared in recognition. The sound was deeper than before, no longer an unrestrained fury of a monarch asserting dominance, but something colder and sharper, an acknowledgment that its prey had crossed a threshold.
The roar rippled outward in layered waves, compressing the air until it screamed. The flames wreathing its body recoiled inward as if drawn by an unseen force.
Then, the impossible happened. The Lion began to shrink. Its colossal frame folded inward with terrifying efficiency, bones compressed, muscle fibers condensed rather than diminished. Its massive bulk collapsed into itself like a dying star imploding under its own gravity.
Valeria's eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening instinctively as the pressure spiked instead of fading. Gregor felt his lungs constrict, wind mana stuttering inside him as if resisting the suffocating density forming ahead.
